


Defeat

by sennalee



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Desperation, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omorashi, Pre-Slash, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sennalee/pseuds/sennalee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shintarou almost wished that Takao hadn’t mentioned that empty bottle, because now his mind would not allow him to think of anything else. All he wanted was relief. He could feel his bladder, swollen, the elastic of his pants pressing down relentlessly. He was horrified when the slightest whimper escaped him at the next wave of desperation, and all he could think about was that damn bottle and how absolutely, indescribably incredible it would feel to be able to let go of all the liquid that had collected inside him. He’d be able to, if only he could just let go of his pride for a moment and admit to Takao that his assumptions had been correct."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm super nervous posting this I'm sorry. Please be gentle and do not kill me. ;n;
> 
> I wasn't really sure what to rate this because while it is really tame, there's still omo, which is definitely a fetish so like. Is that worth a mature rating. We just don't know.
> 
> Also, timeline-wise, I picture this story taking place late in Midorima's second year of high school.

They’d won the practice game, so really, Shintarou thought to himself, they should’ve been able to get away without their coach talking to them and without their captain wanting to review the game and go over every little thing they’d done to try to see where they needed to increase defense or try to push with their offense the next time they played. It was only a practice game, but of course it was against Seirin, so Kuroko and Kagami had wanted to _talk_ once Shintarou had finally escaped from his teammates.

It was all congratulations and promises to defeat him next time, that they were looking forward to the next official match and how they were impressed that he and Takao had seemed to work even better together, Shutoku’s light and shadow having improved beyond what Kuroko, at least, had ever imagined. Midorima Shintarou wouldn’t have been able to repeat anything they’d said beyond these vague ideas, because Midorima Shintarou had been focusing every ounce of consciousness he had on keeping himself from dancing from foot to foot with his desperate need for the restroom.

He had become aware of his need all the way back at his own high school, but back then it was not nearly bad enough to worry him. He had been rushed out of his classroom by an overly excited Takao and had had no wish to let Takao know that he was having such an undignified predicament as needing the toilet. Shintarou had always been a bit bladder shy anyway, and he doubted Takao, in all his excitement, would even bother giving him the privacy to go to the bathroom on his own, so he had instead allowed himself to be shuffled to the bus, hoping he’d be able to nip to the restroom once the team had reached Seirin.

That hope had become quite the pipe dream once the bus had hit traffic, and it had all been downhill from there.

He couldn’t bear to do something so humiliating as ask to leave the game—even if it _was_ just a practice game, Seirin was a tough enough opponent that Shintarou had played nearly the entire time—and the coach had wanted to discuss strategy during every break, making it impossible for Shintarou to slip away on his own.

Now, here he stood, thighs subtly pressed together, hand clenched tightly around the silver necklace chain that was his lucky item today, gnawing his lower lip in hopes that he could direct his focus more onto that pain than the distracting press of his bladder. Thinking about it now, Shintarou was a bit astonished he’d even been able to make it all the way through that practice game, much less lead his team to victory. Really, he had to admit, the last quarter had been taken pretty much entirely by the combination of his seniors and Takao, though none of them had had the gall to mention Shintarou’s surely obvious distraction, much to his relief.

He had sat through the team meeting with minimal squirming and only one or two suspicious looks from Takao before bolting the moment it was over, sure he was about to burst when he had been cornered by Kuroko and Kagami immediately after exiting the gym and now here he was, discussing the game (or really, listening to Kagami and Kuroko discuss the game) while the little time he had before the bus would be heading back to Shutoku dwindled down to none.

“Sorry to break up the reunion, but Shin-chan and I have to get back to the bus,” Takao announced quite suddenly—and when did he even get there, Shintarou had to wonder—as he grabbed the shooting guard’s arm and smiled at Kagami and Kuroko. “Great game though, it was totally fun! Next time we’re going to beat you by an even bigger margin,” Takao snickered, though all who heard knew his taunts were in good taste. Despite being on opposing teams, Takao did enjoy his time with Seirin’s light and shadow, whether on the court or off.

“Yeah, it was great, though you’re wrong about that. You’re totally going down next time,” was Kagami’s rebuttal, Kuroko choosing to stay silent, but giving Kagami a gentle smile in agreement.

“Whatever you say,” Takao smirked. “But really, we have to get going. The upperclassman have already been complaining for awhile about having to wait for you, Shin-chan. They sent me to fetch you.”

Not trusting his voice to sound completely normal in his current state, Shintarou bid the Seirin players good bye with a short bow before turning on his heel and marching stiffly toward the bus, Takao jogging to catch up before matching the taller boy’s pace. Shintarou kept his eyes firmly forward, refusing to even indicate he was aware Takao was walking alongside him. He knew that if anyone would be able to figure out what was wrong with him, it would be Takao, and he was very sure that he just might die of embarrassment if that were to happen. Takao couldn’t know. The team couldn’t know. He had missed his chance to take care of the problem both at Shutoku and Seirin, so now there was nothing he could do but make it through the bus ride back and convince Takao to leave without him once back at Shutoku so he’d be able to run into the school on his own. Of course, if he had been in a clearer state of mind, it would’ve been beyond obvious to Shintarou that there would be no way Takao would ever _not_ notice something off about him, and while usually this was somewhat of a pleasant surprise, that was not the case at the moment.

“Are you feeling okay?” Takao began, voice quieter now that he was addressing Shintarou rather than the Seirin players.

“Fine,” Shintarou snapped, quickening his pace as much as he could without losing control, feeling his bladder pulse in protest to the movement but he refused to slow back down. He just needed to get to the bus and then he could sit down. Sitting would allow him to cross his legs, which would make holding on infinitely easier. He would be able to make it back to Shutoku with no problem, he told himself. After all, he still had his lucky item clenched tightly in his right fist and on top of that, Cancers were ranked third that day. It was strange that this ranking had allowed him such bad luck as to have gotten into this predicament in the first place, but maybe his lucky item wasn’t exactly correct? Maybe he had needed a chain actually made of silver rather than just a silver color. Clearly it was too late to be thinking about this now, so Shintarou did his best to push it out of his mind. He needed to concentrate anyway, as Takao was still insisting on speaking to him despite the curt dismissal.

“—just seemed really tense since we got on the bus to come here, so I wanted to make sure. If you’re feeling bad, you should let the coach know. Maybe he has some painkillers you can take.” Shintarou caught the tail end of Takao’s worried monologue and quickly shook his head.

“I am _fine_ , Takao,” he stated, trying to end the discussion with his firm tone, seemingly succeeding when he was met only with a frustrated pout in response.

Shintarou knew he was not fine. He was beginning to feel light-headed and sweat was collecting on his forehead, and he knew that neither of these things were caused by exertion during the game. The pressure in his abdomen had reached unbearable back on the court, but he refused to admit to his problem. Midorima Shintarou was not going to keep his entire basketball team from leaving Seirin on time because he had, of all things, a bathroom emergency. Midorima Shintarou was dignified and proud and he certainly was not going to admit to something so absolutely embarrassing. Midorima Shintarou could definitely make it back to Shutoku.

As much as he kept reassuring himself, Shintarou was getting worried. Maybe he’d be able to make it to Shutoku, but there was no telling if he’d be able to make it off the bus—much less into the actual school building—without at least leaking a bit. In fact, he was nearly leaking now, feeling, to his utter horror, the slightest hint of wetness in his pants. He hoped to whatever almighty being was out there that the feeling was only residual sweat from the game and focused on climbing the steps into the bus as smoothly as he could to avoid bouncing his bladder. Falling into the closest empty seat, he scooted over to lean against the wall of the bus, immediately crossing his legs and pressing his thighs together. He tucked his lucky item away in his bag before folding his hands in his lap as he turned to glare out the window, avoiding Takao’s eyes as the other boy took the seat next to Shintarou.

“Nice of you to join us, Midorima,” one of his teammates said. Shintarou was entirely too distracted to notice who, much less actually reply, keeping his eyes directed out the window and praying that the bus didn’t delay in making its way back to Shutoku.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re here now! Let’s just get a move on if you’re all in such a hurry,” Takao replied, kneeling on the seat to address his teammate directly. Shintarou reached over and tugged the back of Takao’s jacket as the bus began to move, pulling him back so he was sitting facing forward. Takao rewarded Shintarou for his care with a wide grin before pulling out his phone and beginning to play a game, leaving Shintarou with little to distract himself other than the passing scenery outside the bus window.

It wasn’t long before a wave of desperation overcame the shooting guard, causing him to bend forward slightly at the waist and clench both fists tightly to prevent himself from shoving them between his legs. Even if Takao hadn’t already been suspicious that something was wrong, such an action would’ve tipped him off immediately. Shintarou leaned his forehead against the seat in front of him and stared pointedly at the floor, jiggling his foot rapidly for the sole reason of the bit of extra pressure every downwards movement of his foot made on his crotch.

Unfortunately, the change in position had caught Takao’s attention and the point guard didn’t hesitate in exiting out of his game and stowing his phone back in his bag, turning inward to face Shintarou more fully.

“Shin-chan, you are really not all right. Do you have a stomachache?” Takao asked.

“Something like that,” Shintarou mumbled toward the ground.

“What? I couldn't quite hear you.”

“Yes, it’s just a stomachache,” Shintarou repeated, louder this time. He didn’t care how close he had become to Takao over the past year … This was just something that, to Shintarou, was too embarrassing to share no matter how much he wished to have someone else to commiserate with. Unfortunately, even though it had seemed likely at that moment that Takao would take the stomachache excuse as truth and leave Shintarou be, another wave of intense desperation hit him.

Panicking as he felt himself begin to let go, a small spurt of urine shooting out into his underpants, Shintarou couldn’t keep himself from shoving his hands between his legs, thinking of nothing other than the fact that if he wet himself here on the bus, in front of his entire team, he would never live it down. Even if his teammates took pity on him and didn’t torture him by bringing the incident up later, the mortification alone would surely keep Shintarou from ever being able to look any of them in the eye again.

Not to mention, Takao was sitting next to him. Takao was the closest thing Shintarou had had to a friend for years, and how could Shintarou expect Takao to stay by his side if he were to do something as horribly disgusting and infantile as wet himself? But oh, did he have to go!

He wished he had been paying more attention to the time when he had gotten onto the bus, because now there was no way for him to predict how much longer he’d have to wait. He squeezed his eyes shut as he kept pressing his hands on his crotch (now that they were already there, there wasn’t much point to removing them), feeling the telltale burning behind his eyelids that predicted tears might be falling soon. Whether the tears were from embarrassment, pain, or a combination of the two, Shintarou didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure if it _mattered_ at that point as he felt another warm spurt of liquid escape him despite the added pressure of his hands.

“Shin-chan, do you have to pee?” Takao was even closer now, having leaned over to murmur directly into Shintarou’s ear. Shintarou shivered at the sensation of Takao’s breath on his neck, shutting his eyes even tighter and pulling in a shuddering breath.

“No,” he declared.

He knew Takao wouldn’t be convinced. Takao was very observant and none too dim, despite what his carefree manner often suggested. Takao knew Shintarou better than anybody else in Shintarou’s life barring Shintarou’s own family, but hopefully, even if Takao was questioning Shintarou’s answer, he would know his friend well enough to not press any further.

 _Why is this happening,_ Shintarou thought angrily to himself. He had been getting on so _well_ with Takao, and now here he was, about to ruin everything because he couldn’t control his own bladder.

“Okay, but if you do feel like you have to pee, I have an empty bottle you can use. If you don’t think you can make it for ten minutes, I mean,” Takao said, still leaning close to Shintarou. “It’s okay, you know. I think most of the team’s sleeping, and no one will be able to see you from the aisle if I stay sitting like this.” The shooting guard was infinitely grateful for Takao’s respect for his privacy, but now he knew he’d only have to wait ten more minutes before he could get his relief. As much as his bladder was begging him to take Takao up on his offer, his pride simply would not let him even consider it as an actual possibility. Letting out a quiet sigh, Shintarou opened his eyes to look at Takao.

“Thank you, but you’re wrong. It’s just a stomachache, as I said earlier. I will be fine,” Shintarou asserted.

Takao raised an eyebrow and frowned. “If you say so,” he sighed, but he did not pull out his phone to continue his game, keeping his stance of sitting turned inwards toward Shintarou, eyes still squinted at the shooting guard’s face as Shintarou kept his hands glued to his crotch and rocked his body back and forth.

Shintarou almost wished that Takao hadn’t mentioned that empty bottle, because now his mind would not allow him to think of anything else. All he wanted was relief. He could feel his bladder, swollen, the elastic of his pants pressing down relentlessly. He was horrified when the slightest whimper escaped him at the next wave of desperation, and all he could think about was that _damn bottle_ and how _absolutely, indescribably incredible_ it would feel to be able to let go of all the liquid that had collected inside him. He’d be able to, if only he could just let go of his _pride_ for a moment and admit to Takao that his assumptions had been correct.

Takao had taken to rubbing soothing circles on Shintarou’s back. In any normal circumstance, Shintarou’s stomach would’ve been erupting in butterflies and thousands of confusing thoughts would be parading through his mind, but at that moment, all he could focus on was his need to pee, and the volume of urine within him was leaving no room for any stray butterflies. He’d think about it later, surely, when he had gotten his relief and was firmly out of this terrible situation. He’d wonder what it meant, if the touch was just the worried motion of a friend or if Takao might’ve meant something more by it, but his bladder was refusing to let Shintarou’s mind consider anything but its fullness.

He felt his bladder pound with every pulse of his heart, and he let out a tiny groan, ceasing the jiggling of his foot to instead focus on pressing his thighs even more tightly together. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to wet himself on this disgusting bus in front of all his teammates (and Takao, oh no, Takao. He’d never be able to look at his friend again), and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Another spurt of urine escaped, and he leaked for a full four seconds before finally managing to regain control, but oh, did he wish he could just let go. Even after only four seconds, it was pure torture pulling back and clenching his muscles down even tighter. He wanted nothing more than to just relax and let go, knowing the relief he would feel would be so immense.

It wouldn’t be worth it though, he kept telling himself. A moment of feeling so wonderful would certainly never be worth the shame that would come along with it. Besides, Takao would probably stop rubbing his back if the point guard realized that Shintarou was literally wetting his pants. No one would ever want to touch someone so very repulsive, Shintarou was sure.

Takao, on the other hand, was feeling worse and worse for his precious Shin-chan. The poor boy was clearly so very desperate and probably in pain, but he was too embarrassed to even admit the problem despite its obviousness. Takao would’ve done anything to help. He had to do everything he could just to keep from grabbing that empty bottle and shoving it in Shin-chan’s pants himself, but he knew that nothing would come of that but Shin-chan’s wrath once the shooting guard had realized what Takao had done.

Takao kept his hand moving, rubbing Shin-chan’s back, even going so far as to rest his forehead on Shin-chan’s shoulder and taking advantage of the taller boy’s distraction to nuzzle him slightly when he heard a pained whine get stuck in Shin-chan’s throat.

“Just a few more minutes, Shin-chan. We’re really close now,” Takao murmured, getting only a quiet whimper in response. Though he didn’t say it out loud, Takao was honestly getting worried that even if Shin-chan managed to make it to the school without an accident that he might lose the battle against his bladder the moment he stood up to leave the bus. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Shin-chan any further embarrassment by bringing up the bottle again though, so Takao left it up to the desperate shooting guard to decide whether the situation was dire enough to request it.

Shintarou had been on the verge of giving in and admitting his need in order to beg the bottle off Takao when his friend had spoken up about how much time he had left to wait. He couldn’t give in if there were mere minutes left before they would reach Shutoku. Shintarou was not so weak, and if he could avoid the embarrassment of having to pee in a bottle on a bus, of all things, then all the better.

Those few minutes felt like _hours_ to Shintarou though, and it wasn’t long before he was regretting not giving in back when Takao had last spoken. Now though, they were just down the road to the parking lot, and it would be beyond pathetic if he couldn’t wait the thirty seconds it would take to actually get there and park the bus. The only thing more humiliating than having to pee in a bottle on a bus ride was having to pee in a bottle on a bus after it had already stopped at its destination. Midorima Shintarou was not going to be defeated by his own body. Of that he was determined, even though his body was putting up a hell of a fight against him.

And then the bus had parked and Shintarou was standing up before the door was even open, most likely injuring Takao in the process (as his head had still been resting on his dear Shin-chan’s shoulder) but unable to think about anything other than getting to a toilet as fast as humanly possible. Standing so quickly had not been his smartest move, however, as he immediately was forced to bend in half at the waist, crossing his legs and clutching his hands to his crotch.

“No no, please not yet,” he whined as another burst of urine dribbled into his underwear, his mind-to-mouth filter apparently no longer working thanks to his sheer desperation, and surely later he would remember this and flush bright red at the knowledge that if Takao wasn't already aware he’d been on the verge of wetting himself, that outburst could’ve done nothing but clue him in on that fact.

“Shin-chan.” Takao had stood as well and was gripping Shintarou’s shoulders. “You’re fine. We’re here, and you’re going to be fine.” Takao’s voice was so firm, and Shintarou wanted nothing more than to believe it, but his bladder really did have other ideas as his dick continued to leak steadily, the change in gravity from standing up doing nothing to help him.

The rest of the team had already cleared out of the bus and split to go their separate ways by the time Takao managed to coax the shooting guard down the steps, speaking the whole time about how he knew Shin-chan would be fine and that Shin-chan shouldn’t be embarrassed, things like this happened to everyone and he had already been so strong holding on for so long, but as much as Shintarou appreciated this, he couldn’t help the furious blush that burned over his cheeks. Takao _knew_ , of course he did, he had for awhile and Shintarou had been aware of that, but as much as Takao was trying to help, the reminder that Shintarou was being so very obvious in his desperation did nothing but mortify him even further. The only thing he had going for him right now—aside from having avoided fully wetting himself—was that it didn’t seem as if any of his other teammates had noticed anything was wrong. Or at least if they had, they had been tactful enough to ignore it.

He didn’t have the brainpower to think about or fully appreciate that then, though. Shintarou could think of nothing beyond the fact that he needed a toilet very much immediately and that if he could only make it up the sidewalk to the school, there was a bathroom just beyond the closest door.

“Takao,” Shintarou gasped. “I f-forgot something in the school. P-please wait…for me.”

Takao smirked and shook his head. “Of course I’ll wait, Shin-chan. You want help walking? Looks like your _stomachache_ hasn’t gone away yet.” Takao was even playing along now. Takao really was too good to him, Shintarou knew, even when Shintarou was so ridiculous that he still couldn’t admit his need despite both him and Takao knowing full well that his problem was not a stomachache and he certainly did not need to get into the school because he had forgotten something.

“N-no, I am fine,” Shintarou said, using a final burst of willpower to pull his hands out from between his legs and instead hold them at his sides, clenched into tight fists. Takao simply nodded, grabbing both his own and Shintarou’s bags before turning to walk off toward the rickshaw to wait.

Shintarou, on the other hand, began waddling his way up the path, spurting more urine into his pants with every step, much to his horror. But he was almost there. He was so close to the relief he could taste it, and he nearly cried when he finally reached the door to the school. Okay, now all he had to do was open this door, walk just a few steps down the hallway, and the bathroom would be right there. He was going to make it. Against all odds, Midorima Shintarou had won this round again his own bladder, and he knew relief would never feel better than it would in just a few moments. He reached out to the door handle only to let out a hopeless sob at his next discovery.

The door was locked. Of _course_ nothing could ever be easy. His bladder throbbed, loathing the fact that it had been so close to the release it’d been craving for _hours_ now only to be denied by a locked door. Shintarou wasn’t sure what time it was, but if this door was locked, the odds were that the entire school was locked. The bus had gotten back too late. Now his only hope was to make it all the way back to his house.

He didn’t know how he was going to manage such a feat when it had already taken every bit of willpower he had just to get through that torturous bus ride.

He had to, though. He refused to give in now when he had made it so far. Besides, Takao was waiting for him, so he really had no choice.

He trudged his way toward the rickshaw, having to stop every few steps to press his hands tightly between his legs and squeeze before straightening up as best he could and continuing on. Once he reached the rickshaw, he saw Takao leaning his hip against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“Was the school locked?” Shintarou saw nothing but worry and sympathy in Takao’s eyes, yet he still just could not get himself to admit his very obvious problem.

“Yes. I’ll need to wait until tomorrow.”

“…To get what you forgot, you mean,” Takao sighed.

“Yes.”

“…Alright then. You get in back. I’m not going to try to make you pedal when you’ve got such a bad stomachache,” Takao said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the rickshaw. Shintarou nodded, moving at the fastest speed currently available to him (which was a careful, glacial pace) to climb into the rickshaw and twist his legs in an attempt to put maximum pressure on his abused groin.

“Hey, Shin-chan, do you want to come over to mine for dinner? You can even stay the night if you want, my mom won’t mind,” Takao offered. Takao’s house was closer to the school by a full twelve minutes. Of course Takao would be so considerate as to offer this to Shintarou when he was so very desperate.

As it was, Shintarou was doubting his abilities to make it even to Takao’s house, but maybe those twelve minutes would make all the difference.

“Yes,” he gasped, unable to use up any more energy to elaborate on his answer.

“Great. We’ll be there soon, then. And Shin-chan?”

Takao refused to continue until Shintarou let out a very strained “What?”

“That bottle is still in my bag if you need it, okay? You don’t have to ask. Just grab it if you want to.”

Shintarou did not dignify that with a response, bladder throbbing at the suggestion as his face flushed again. Takao didn’t seem to be expecting one though as he continued on his way home, standing up on the pedals every once in awhile to generate greater speed. Normally Shintarou enjoyed watching Takao work his strong legs on his bike, pulling Shintarou along behind him, but today Shintarou couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pain in his abdomen.

Oh, did he have to _go._ He had thought it’d been bad on the bus, but now every pebble, every hole in the road, every slight inconsistency in Takao’s peddling that caused a jerk of the rickshaw made his bladder scream in protest. The leaking was a constant now. Nothing Shintarou could do was stopping it, and he was only thankful that the steady drip hadn’t yet become a flood.

He eyed Takao’s bag as the minutes stretched on. It would be so simple to just reach in and pull out the bottle, but even if he didn’t say anything, Takao would _know_. He would hear the zipper of the bag even before the sound of Shintarou’s pee hitting the plastic reached his ears, and just the thought of that embarrassed Shintarou so thoroughly he didn’t even want to _look_ at Takao lest Takao somehow know that he was actually considering something so unseemly. Besides, Shintarou was in public. It’s one thing to pee in a bottle on a bus filled with trusted teammates, but to do so in a moving rickshaw on a residential street? He would never be able to live with himself.

He was slowly reaching the point though that he was going to have to choose between giving in and using the bottle or making an absolute mess of his clothes, because there were still ten minutes before they would reach Takao’s house, and Shintarou sincerely doubted he’d even be able to last five.

Make that _one_ , as Shintarou, much to his horror, began feeling his muscles giving up after their long, grueling battle. The steady leaking into his pants had gone from a dribble to a thin stream, and Shintarou was physically unable to sit still, kneading his hands desperately on his crotch as he rocked his body back and forth, shifting his hips, doing everything he could to relieve the pressure other than giving in and letting go.

Time seemed to freeze in the moment that his muscles finally gave up. One moment, everything was still,  Shintarou’s hips stopping their restless gyrating, his green eyes going wide and mouth opening in a horrified gasp.

And then it happened.

Of course he’d known it would happen, even with all his pleading and hoping and assurances to himself that he could make it because he was Midorima Shintarou, and Midorima Shintarou would certainly never do something as immature as wetting himself. But there were some things that just couldn’t be controlled beyond a point, and his bladder was one of them. In the moments leading up to that first heavy gush of liquid, the pain became so intense that sweat began dripping down the shooting guard’s face. He could barely breathe for lack of room in his abdomen, every movement pressing firmly on his rock of a bladder. He had let out a final, dry sob, knowing it was impossible to continue. There was just too much liquid, it hurt so much and he had been holding for so long. It had been _hours_ of this, and he’d had to play basketball and refrain from clutching himself and making his need obvious in front of his teammates. His mind was so frazzled that he couldn’t even remember anymore why it was so imperative that he keep holding on, his thoughts doing nothing but begging for release.

 _Please please just let me go please._ If he had been in his right mind, Shintarou would’ve been blushing, resolutely pushing his glasses up his nose if only to hide his face behind his hand for those few seconds, refusing to meet the eyes of anybody else, but Shintarou hadn’t been in his right mind for the past hour, and it seemed that no matter how determined he was to keep from flooding his pants, his bladder was finished.

There was a sudden warm gush, and it was all Shintarou could do to keep from throwing his head back and groaning quite inappropriately, but the wet feeling brought his mind back just enough to realize he was in the rickshaw. If this was happening—as Shintarou knew it was, there was no stopping it now—the worst thing would be to ruin the rickshaw. It was Takao’s after all, and if Takao was already going to be subjected to seeing Shintarou in the worst, most mortifying moment of his life, the least the shooting guard could do was make an effort not to wreck Takao’s possessions.

“Takao, stop!” he shouted, clambering out of the rickshaw even as it was still moving, Takao slowing to a stop so as not to jerk the wooden trailer. Shintarou was already out and running though, off the street and toward a patch of trees a few meters away, still trying to stop the flow even though he knew the effort was getting him nowhere. He just had to hope that there was nobody else around but Takao to see him like this. It would be hard enough to live with the knowledge that Takao was witnessing something so very repulsive.

Once under the cover of the trees, Shintarou finally gave in completely. It had been his intention to at least attempt to remove his pants before letting go, but the reality of all of it had hit him once reaching the shade…There was already a noticeable wet spot on his pants, and if there _were_ any other people around, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of indecent exposure. He would just be forced to walk home in soaked pants, and yet another dry sob escaped him at that realization.

This final decision made, all thoughts flew out of his mind as he finally, truly gave in and relaxed completely, the flow of urine changing from that thin stream to a gushing river, completely soaking his pants in seconds. If he hadn’t already been near tears from the embarrassment of the situation, Shintarou knew he likely would’ve cried just from the feeling of sheer relief. Even as his bladder was still bulging, pounding in its attempts to void itself ever faster after being so full for so long, Shintarou didn’t think he’d ever felt something as great as that relief.

The feeling was on par with an orgasm, he thought, face bowed and glowing as he braced a hand against the tree in front of him, unable to keep from sinking to his knees as his legs gave out underneath him. The moans and sighs that were leaving his mouth were, he imagined, near vulgar, but he couldn’t stay silent. It seemed as if his conscious mind had left him the moment he’d let go, and he doubted it’d be coming back until he was fully empty.

And then the stream of liquid was tapering off, just drips leaving him now into his thoroughly soaked pants as Shintarou let out a final, shuddering sigh before feeling his face light up bright red.

“Oh no,” he whispered to himself, eyes beginning to burn in humiliation, hand still bracing the tree as he tried to stand on shaking legs, falling right back down to his knees when his usually strong legs decided they weren’t ready to support his weight quite yet.

“…Shin-chan?” he heard from nearby, and wasn’t _that_ just the icing on the cake. Takao had followed him. Shintarou had never really expected otherwise, but he’d hoped Takao might’ve been considerate enough to pretend none of this had happened, pretend Shintarou’s pants hadn’t turned a few shades darker, that liquid was dripping now both from his trousers and his eyes as the upset and mortification that had been building up throughout the past few hours truly and finally caught up to him now that his mind was not otherwise occupied with controlling his bursting bladder, the burning in his eyes spilling over in the form of tears. Actual, physical tears. Wasn’t this just a day of firsts, Shintarou thought, desperate for hours before thoroughly wetting himself and then _crying_ about it of all things, but Shintarou was just so very tired and wanted nothing more but to shed his ruined clothes and shower and curl up in bed and just _forget_.

But this would never truly be forgotten because Takao knew, Takao had seen, and even if Takao understood and was nice and caring and said that it didn’t bother him, it bothered _Shintarou_ and oh, he was never going to be able to face Takao again, his precious Takao.

“Stay over there!” Shintarou ordered his teammate, voice wobbling as he pressed his forehead to the tree before him, doing his best to hide his tear-stained cheeks. “I-I just…I…”

He couldn’t even complete his thought. He wasn’t even sure what he had been meaning to say. Maybe he’d wanted to reassure Takao, do anything he could to let Takao know that Shintarou did not need him, that he should go back and wait by the rickshaw, that maybe he should just leave altogether because Shintarou was fully capable of walking himself home from here, thank you very much, but not even one of those things was true and Shintarou knew Takao would see right through him.

“Oh, Shin-chan.” And it was too late anyway, as Takao’s quiet cooing was coming from right next to him, and now Takao would _see him_ looking so pathetic and childish and if Shintarou had known this morning his day was going to turn out this way, he never would’ve gotten out of bed.

“Well, that must’ve felt good,” Takao said so quietly that it almost seemed as if he were talking to himself, but Shintarou knew better as Takao lowered himself to his knees. “Are you feeling better, Shin-chan?”

Shintarou turned his face away. How could Takao ask such a vulgar question, particularly when it had such an obvious answer? He knew Takao wasn’t making fun of him, would never do such a thing when Shintarou was so  distressed, but his questions weren’t helping anything.

When he heard Shin-chan let out a tiny hiccup, Takao realized. He hadn’t been able to see Shin-chan’s face when he approached, but clearly that had been by design. His taller friend was so very torn up about this that he was actually crying. Sitting on the ground in soaked trousers crying against a tree. With a quiet huff, Takao moved closer to Shin-chan, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders.

“No, Takao,” Shintarou gave Takao’s chest a half-hearted shove that didn’t so much as shift the smaller boy’s grip on him. Why would Takao even want to be near him after seeing what he’d done, much less touch him like this? Shintarou raised his gaze to see Takao’s expression and was greeted with eyes filled with sympathy, though they were set in a face covered in a deep blush.

“See, Shin-chan, you’re fine now. Everything’s fine. I’m sure you feel much better now, don’t you? You held on for so long, so it’s okay that you gave up, you know,” Takao said, placing one firm hand on the back of Shintarou’s head and pushing gently until Shintarou’s cheek was resting on Takao’s shoulder, the point guard’s other hand rubbing up and down Shintarou’s back. “Just think about how good that felt, okay? Don’t worry about your clothes, and nobody else is around, so I’m the only one who knows. Your secret’s safe with me, Shin-chan.”

Shintarou had to clench his fists to prevent himself from wrapping his own arms around the warm body of Takao. He desperately wanted to return the hug, but he knew his hands were wet, and the last thing he wanted now, after everything he’d already suffered through, was to do something so horribly disgusting as dirty Takao when Takao was being so _good_ to him. Instead, he let out another quiet sob and buried his face into the crook of Takao’s neck, happy at least to hear that no one other than his friend had witnessed his humiliation.

“I’m sorry, Takao.”

“Shh, what’re you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’ve…I…Only children do things like this. I should’ve been able to control myself.” Shintarou was unable to even speak aloud a description of what exactly he had done, face burning ever brighter at the reality of all that had just transpired.

“Well, that just isn’t true, since you are definitely not a child. Everyone has moments like this, Shin-chan. It’s unfortunate, but I don’t think badly of you. Like I said, you really held it a long time. I actually hoped you’d use the bottle, because I don’t like seeing you in pain,” Takao admitted, pushing lightly on Shintarou’s shoulders so he could meet his eyes. “Besides, like I said, just focus on how good it felt to finally give in, yeah? There’s no need to be embarrassed, and it might help you feel better about all this if you look for a positive. It did feel great, right? You were really holding a lot.”

Shintarou sort of wished Takao would stop saying such strange things, but it _was_ sort of helping now that he had calmed down a bit. His mind kept drifting back to the near-orgasmic moment of his initial release, and the feeling had only gotten better the longer his bladder had drained until that moment of blessed emptiness. Of course, there was a dull ache in his abdomen making itself known now…His muscles were tired after all that work, and he knew his bladder was working to shrink back down to a more normal size after stretching to its limit.

Shintarou rewarded Takao with a small, sheepish nod in response to his question, and Takao gave Shintarou a bright grin. “Good. And it’s going to feel great to get out of those wet clothes, too. My parents and sister are out tonight, so you can take a bath as soon as we get back while I heat something up for us to eat. Unless you want to order in? Whatever you want is fine with me tonight, Shin-chan!”

“…Do what you wish,” Shintarou said. “But…Shouldn’t I just go home?” Shintarou couldn’t imagine why Takao would want to spend a night with him after witnessing such a pathetic scene.

“Do you _want_ to go home? Because I was looking forward to spending the rest of the night with you, but if you’d rather go home, that's fine. I can walk you back instead.”

“Takao, I’m disgusting. I don’t…understand.”

“You are _not_. I told you, things like this happen to everybody. In middle school I pissed myself in the middle of class once because the teacher wouldn’t let me leave during the lesson. My classmates didn’t stop talking about it for _weeks,_ but I’m okay now, right? It couldn’t be helped, and it’s the same for you. You can only hold on for so long, Shin-chan, and this is much better than you hurting yourself by waiting.”

Shintarou nodded before finally pushing himself back into a standing position, wincing when he heard his shoes squish beneath him.

“Soooo, are we heading to my house, or do you want me to walk you home? Or you could just come over and wash up? You don’t have to stay the night, but I can throw your clothes in the washer while we eat so you don’t have to explain to your parents what happened,” Takao suggested.

“I would still like to stay overnight,” Shintarou said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his left hand and scowling minutely when he felt the remaining wetness soaked into the tape on his fingers trail over his nose. “If you will have me.”

“Of course, Shin-chan! It’s always fun when you stay over! Come on, go get back in the rickshaw, and we’ll be there before you know it!”

Shintarou had wanted to argue riding in the rickshaw. After all, his pants were still very much soaked through, and there would be no avoiding the formation of a puddle in the trailer, but he was beginning to feel exhausted after all he’d suffered that day and gave in without so much as a single comment.

The ride back to Takao’s house was silent, and Shintarou darted into the bathroom to wash as soon as they walked in the door, Takao hiding a fond laugh behind his hand. When Shintarou exited the bath to be greeted by a pair of too-small sweatpants and a t-shirt that exposed his midriff, he realized Takao must have snuck in to fetch his wet clothes while he’d been bathing.

Dressing in the laughably small outfit was a task unto itself, but Shintarou really didn’t have any other options unless he wanted to walk through Takao’s house naked. Takao really couldn’t hide his smirk this time when he saw Shintarou’s exposed ankles, the shooting guard tugging anxiously on the bottom of the t-shirt to hide his stomach.

“I’m sorry, Shin-chan, but those are the biggest clothes I have. Unless you’d rather borrow some of my dad's?”

“No, these are fine. Thank you, Takao.”

Takao nodded as he served up the meal of reheated rice and curry for the two of them and motioned Shintarou toward the table.

Normally when Shintarou spent the night at Takao’s, the boys would study for a bit after dinner before heading to bed (or really, Shintarou would study while Takao played video games, sometimes even convincing the studious shooting guard to play with him when Shintarou was in a particularly good mood), but Takao could tell poor Shin-chan was still worn out from his ordeal earlier in the day. There was no school the next day anyway, so instead of pulling out a game controller once they had gone to Takao’s room, the shorter boy instead pulled Shintarou’s arm, leading him over to the bed and yanking back the blankets, pushing on his shoulders to indicate he should get onto the mattress.

“Where’s the futon?” was Shintarou’s immediate reaction, despite there not being a lick of resistance to getting into Takao’s bed.

“I don’t feel like setting it up tonight. Is this okay?” Takao asked.

“Yes,” Shintarou decided, turning his face toward the wall, though not completely hiding the red tinge to his cheeks.

“Good.” Takao smiled, climbing into bed beside his friend and removing his glasses for him, setting them on the nightstand before nuzzling in close and wrapping a strong arm around Shintarou’s waist. “Good night then, Shin-chan.”

“Good night, Takao.” And if it seemed strange to either boy that not only was Takao drifting into sleep with his arm around Shintarou but that Shintarou was _allowing_ this, neither mentioned it. And if Shintarou could’ve sworn that he felt a pair of soft lips press gently to his forehead before a head came down to lay on his shoulder just as he was finally slipping into sleep, well, maybe he was just having a wonderful dream. In any case though, Shintarou felt warm and safe and cared for and he hadn’t even thought of the embarrassment of earlier once since he had finished his bath, and if something had changed between the two of them that night, then really, things were all the better for it. But for now, as he began drifting off to sleep, shifting in closer to the warmth of Takao’s body next to him, he decided that whatever was happening between them could wait to be discussed in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote 8k words of Midorima having to pee. I reaaaaaalllly hope this didn't drag, because I know I tend to get super wordy (just look at these author's notes, jeez), but I think I pulled it off? Maybe? Please let me know if it dragged and I'll try in the future to definitely cut down on descriptors, because again, I seriously cannot believe I wrote an 8k word omo fic like whoa. I think this is the longest fic I've ever written, honestly.
> 
> I really don't know why I referred to Midorima as "Shintarou" this entire fic, but it just seemed to flow a lot better than Midorima, so there we go.
> 
> I'm sorry about any ooc-ness. I think I did pretty well with Midorima, but I had a ridiculous amount of trouble with Takao's dialogue. I think it's believable if you take into account that this is presumably happening nearly a year after the end of the manga/anime takes place, so Takao obviously has grown even closer to Midorima in that time, but...idk. I feel like maybe I don't "get" Takao's character to the point that I'd like to.
> 
> Random question unrelated to the fic, but if I were to make a tumblr for omo fics/requests/headcanons would anyone actually visit the page and talk to me? Because it's a thing I've been considering for awhile, but I don't want it to end up as just me shouting into The Void, like, I'd need interaction with actual people to make it a thing worth doing, lmao. So, is that something people would actually want to see? (My fandoms, for reference, are mainly sports anime and Persona, so that's generally what I'd have on the blog, lmao.)
> 
> Edit: So I made the blog. ^^; Come hit me up with omo requests/headcanons at sennaleee.tumblr.com (yes, there are supposed to be 3 e's the sennalee url was taken, so I improvised). It's pretty empty at the time of me writing this, but hopefully I can get some more content on it quickly, lol.


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